


Reunion

by cassbuttandsquirrel



Series: 14x03 Missing Scene [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s14e03 The Scar, Established Relationship, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, One Shot, Shower Sex, Shower sexy times, Smut, So please forgive me, mid episode missing scene, requires a bit of a bend of canon, shower time: romantic stylez, ummm so yeah this is smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-09 21:17:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16457381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassbuttandsquirrel/pseuds/cassbuttandsquirrel
Summary: Dean's back and he makes Cas an offer he can't refuse.





	Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by that one moment when Dean points at Cas after saying that he is going to take a shower.  
> And here we are.  
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own Supernatural or its characters etc etc  
> Further disclaimer: I do love Sam I promise, but I needed to move things along.

"It ain't no thing"

Just four words and Cas can feel the tension he didn't realise he was holding drain from his shoulders. Dean understands. Of course he would. But still something was wrong. The most obvious of tells was that Dean had made no move to hug him. And although his eyes were lightened by this reunion, Cas had seen them brighter.

Not as if this dampening of Dean's spirit should come as a surprise to him. The people in this room, himself included, were all remarkably familiar with the experiences and repercussions of possession. Cas worries that perhaps Dean felt as though his stint with Michael was a direct offense to himself - considering the first year of their acquaintance.

Dean is already trying to make up for the lack of physical contact; pleading the need for a shower. Cas understands that too, but he knows that Dean isn't fool enough to think that mere water could rid him of this feeling of violation. Sam is thinking the same thing, clear in the curious glance he sends Cas before nodding to Dean in acquiescence. Cas squints, wondering if maybe this was just Dean's way of escaping his scrutiny but then the old hunter raises his arm to point at the angel before leaving the room.

As soon as Dean left, Sam turned back to Cas to continue talking but Cas was momentarily side swept by Dean's gesture. Did he mean that he would talk to Cas later? Did he mean for Cas to join him? Shaking aside his uncertainty, Cas decides that either way, Dean was clear: he wanted to see him. Cas finishes his conversation with Sam as soon as possible, promising to do pass on whatever he hears from Dean if it pertains to his most recent hellish experience.

Cas walks quickly down the hallway toward Dean’s room. He pushes open the door and Dean is no where to be found. There is also no evidence that Dean had been in the room at all, so Cas takes the initiative to find a change of clothes. Choosing what to wear had always been something fascinating to him. The strange conviction that the decision somehow made an impact on the day was an aspect of human sense-making that Cas had never quite understood. As he is now, Cas has no desire to change from his suit and trenchcoat combination. And even in his brief time graceless, he had not the luxury to indulge in that sort of routine.

Cas is triumphant when he locates the pink and blue overshirt Dean likes the best. He makes quick work of the rest, picking out the softest Henley and pair of jeans of his collection. He piles the folded clothes into his arms and makes his way toward the shower room. As he slips open the door to the showers, Cas is confident that he has not mistaken Dean's offer. The room is already gently swirling with steam and Cas takes a moment to lean against the door and let the soothing sound of the water hitting the tiles wash over him. Even this experience was cleansing in a way. Cas calls out Dean's name despite already knowing which stall he was occupying. Sometimes, he knew, humans want familiarity and now especially, Dean would be unsettled by Cas appearing without warning. "Here!" Dean's voice is gruff Cas feels relief again.

He leaves his shoes and socks by the door and listens to the pat-pat-pat of his bare feet against the cold tile, the air becoming mistier as he approaches the shower stall. There is a small wooden bench along the outside wall of the shower and Cas puts down the dry clothes he was holding.

He's not sure if the soft "Thanks" from Dean has been aloud or just a prayer but suddenly Cas is unsure of his previous assumptions. Maybe bringing the change of clothes was all Dean had meant. They had some moments between them, and most recently had shared a few desperate kisses before the hunter had said yes to Michael, but Dean had never offered anything like this. They had muddled their way through heated moments against the leather seats of the impala, but these things were always in the dark and the situations had never felt as heavy as this one. They had mostly been before - before Dean became a walking soul bomb, before meeting Lucifer at that cottage, before saying yes to Michael. There had been one after: the lazy morning in Dodge when Dean had been practically bursting with light and his kisses had been eager and carefree things that he seemed to be unable to stop.

There are no curtains in this room, and he stands at the opening to the stall for quite some time, staring at Dean's back and watching the skin become pinker and pinker as the hot water pounds against it until Dean interrupts without turning around.

"There's room in here for two, you know."

And Cas does know. But he answers out of reflex: "Angel's don't shower, Dean."

Dean still says nothing but pours shampoo into his hands and begins to lather it into his hair. Cas takes it for the answer it is. He quietly undresses and slips in easily behind Dean who shifts sideways so they can share the heat of the water. Dean is tilting his head into the spray and using one hand to shake the suds from his hair. With the other he passes Cas a washcloth. Dean's facing him now but its Cas who turns away to grab the bar of soap. Its a light purple colour and Cas feels a newly discovered knot in his chest unravel as he lathers up the cloth to smell lavender.

Dean is looking at him expectantly, but Cas gives a small push palm to shoulder and Dean reluctantly turns to face the shower wall as Cas crouches behind him. Cas cups a hand around the base of the other man's shin and gently tugs it toward himself. Dean lifts his foot, the sole facing Cas and the angel takes his time - rubbing the cloth from the roots of his toes to the heel and watching the tension bleed from Dean's body. As Cas focuses on the hunter's toes Dean jerks suddenly, and Castiel immediately lets go, worried that something had gone wrong. But when he tips his head back to meet Dean's face his cheeks were red from more than just the heat of the shower.

"Shit, sorry. Just, um, a little ticklish," the man apologies, lowering his calf back down.

"That's alright, Dean," Castiel responds, taking the apology more seriously than Dean had intended, "Most people are. Its the high concentration of Meissner's corpuscles that make the feet more sensitive to touch than other parts of the body." This prompts the first of Dean's real smiles since he returned, and Cas revels in the brief glow of Dean's soul.

"Fuckin' nerd," Cas hears Dean mutter, but he takes the high road and lets the moment pass. 

He starts on the next foot, repeating his motions, pressing his thumb firmly into the arches as his other hand continues to cradle his shin. Dean shifts his weight as both his feet are back on the white tiles, and Cas moves on to his right calf, and then his left. This is how Cas continues, slowly making his way up, taking particular pleasure counting each freckle as the suds slip down and away.

As soon as Castiel reaches Dean's ass he can feel that the hunter is getting impatient, so he slows down even more, earning a huffed chuckle. But his plan works and by the time Cas reaches Dean's neck, he is calm again, breaths even and eyes closed in serenity. The angel, seeing his opportunity presses his lips briefly just there, delighting in the startled noise Dean makes. But before the hunter can act out any other response, Cas wipes the kiss away with cotton and lavender soap as if nothing had happened. To his surprise, after only a moments hesitation, Dean relaxes back into his ministrations, eyes fluttering shut again and Cas finishes with the tips of Dean's ears, garnering two more small smiles.

Cas places his hand on Dean's shoulder again and the hunter anticipates his motions, stepping backward so Cas can now move in front of him. The angel immediately resumes his prior position - balancing on the balls of his feet as he presses his hand against the top of Dean's calf, lifting his right foot off the ground. Settling the hunter's heel in his palm, Cas begins his task again. By the time Castiel arrives at Dean's knees, the man is restless again, his hands flitting down to trail his fingers into the angel's dark hair. Cas tries to sooth this itch like he had before but this time nothing can decrease Dean's eagerness, and when his shoulders come into easy distance, Dean's hands grasp him and haul him upright with little warning, sliding his hands up Cas's neck to cradle the base of his skull and press earnest kisses against the angel's surprised mouth.

Cas knows he should be arguing to finish his work but he can't bring himself to push away. For this is the Dean he loves the most - Dean who wants so fully, not for himself, but wants to give as much as receive, Dean who loves with all parts of him, Dean who adores so fiercely Cas can hardly see for shining brightness, Dean whose devotion is so reckless it is almost child-like.

Castiel pushes back just as fervently, carelessly dropping the soap and washcloth and bringing his arms up to frame the man's face. As he skims his hands up those familiar arms, his fingers freeze over unfamiliar ridges. Cas feels something akin to fear as he pulls out of his friend's embrace, tugging the two of them out of the water in order to better scrutinize the alien structures. Two thick linear scars raise the firm skin of Dean's shoulder, like two dashes from Morse code. Dean's head is hanging close to his own and he can feel his still kiss-ragged breath on his ear, but Cas is too distracted to pay it any mind, all thought focused on the cause and seriousness of the injury.

"Dean?"

The hunter ignores his gruff inflection, instead sliding his calloused hands along Cas's flank, stopping flirtatiously just above his ass, and begins to lick kisses behind his ear down towards his jaw.

"Dean," Cas repeats firmer this time, tilting his head away from Dean's mouth as best he could, without forcing the man's hands to fall away. Dean hears the seriousness in the angel's voice and acquiesces.

"Yeah I know man but just..." for a moment Dean's voice is tired and pleading, "just let me have this."

The fight drains from Castiel immediately and he lets his forehead fall against his friend's collarbone.

They stand like that for a while - Dean slowly moving his lips against any part of Cas within reach; his hair, his ear, his hair again. Cas struggles with a feeling of defeat (how have things gone wrong already?) but soon Dean's hands begin to drift with more purpose.

"I am just so tired of..." the multiple ways Cas could've finished that sentence are stopped by Dean's hands cupping his face and pushing his head from his shoulder.

"I know, sweetheart, but we'll figure it out." Dean's eyes are warm with reassurance and his thumbs map symmetrical caresses against the angel's stubble. "We always figure it out." He smiles. "A couple of dumbasses, remember?"

"Team Free Will." Cas parrots and for a moment he thinks he sees tears prick at those green eyes.

"That's right. We've got our family, and we've got each other." Dean moves his hands back to palm Castiel's ass. "But first, I'm gonna take care of you, and then we'll bring the news to the family high council."

Cas walks them back under the shower head, Dean squeezing his eyes shut as the water splashes him in his face. Cas figures the best way to protect him is to start kissing him again and he does so happily. The heat of the shower makes Cas feel lazy, but Dean's hands and lips and tongue are becoming more and more insistent. Matching the hunter's ardor, Castiel tilts his head to a better angle and enjoys the hums of pleasure Dean gives him in response.

"I missed this," Cas admits one of the times Dean pulls away to pant against his cheek.

"Yeah, me too." Dean's voice is in his ear and Cas can hear his smile.

"I was talking about the water pressure."

A startled genuine guffaw bubbled from Dean's lips and Cas was more than happy to support Dean as he shook from laughter.

"You motherfucker -" Dean begins as he regains his own balance but Castiel has different ideas, as he pushes the man hard against the tiled wall, planting his leg firmly between Dean's thighs and speaking in breaks between bruising kisses says:

"I hope not. I have never wanted to fuck your mother."

Dean makes distressed noises in his throat and when Cas momentarily lets up he gasps out: "Please... for the love of all that's holy, do not mention my mother in this shower again."

"I was not the one who brought her up," Cas responds calmly as he presses kisses to Dean's chest and Dean's fingers tangle in his darker hair of their own volition.

"Dammit, Cas you -" Dean loses his voice as Cas wraps a slick hand around his throbbing cock. "-bastard!" he manages to choke out as he gets used to the sensation.

Cas grins up at him, eyes both alight with mischief and dark with lust. "Perhaps I am," he says lightly, "I've never really known my father."

For a moment Dean looks as though he is trying not to laugh, but instead he lets out a soft growl and tightens his fingers in Cas's hair using his grip to bring their lips back together.

"You are a terrible person." Dean's voice breaks over some of the words, but he manages to get it out between gritted teeth and heated kisses. Cas works his hand quicker, slipping a thumb over the slit after every twist of his wrist. Dean's hips begin to snap into his fist, and Cas can almost hear Dean's teeth grinding together has he tries to keep himself from the edge. Cas decides that this moment is not the moment for that nonsense, so he presses his mouth to Dean's ear to say in a mixture of awe and hunger: "And yet, you still love me."

Dean's eyes are wide as his hips stutter and a strangled cry pushes from his lips, and he comes in Castiel's fist, with as much eagerness, adoration and devotion as his soul radiates. Cas easily cradles the hunter against his chest as his knees weaken and he slumps away from the wall. When Dean regains his breath he leans his forehead against Cas's, letting their breaths mingle together in the steam and says: "Whatever happened to me helping you?" Cas barely spares a glance at his own flaccid dick but cards his hands through Dean's hair.

"I have a feeling there will be plenty of time for more helping and teamwork after tonight."

Dean smiles and glances away, and Cas swears he sees a blush rise to his already flushed cheeks.

"I really do, ya know?" Dean's voice is earnest even though he misses some words.

"I know." Cas steps out of the shower reaching for the towel on the wall hook. He turns around to hold it out to a stunned Dean. "And now I've just Han Solo'd you so you definitely owe me some help."

"Goddammit Cas, if that wasn't the hottest thing I've ever heard," Dean gripes. "Fucking forties," He mutters as he turns off the shower and accepts the proffered towel.

"Absolutely," Cas offers.

Dean gives another aborted laugh before grabbing the angel's arm and kissing him again. "Okay, but seriously," he says as he breaks away again, "none of that wise-cracking shit around the family." Simply humming in response, Cas pats his hand against Dean's cheek before bending down to reach for his discarded clothes.

There would be time enough for all those afters.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first smut so literally tell me if it sucks please  
> And yes, I'm well aware that the real smut here is only about 200 words at most, sorry.  
> I will also be posting a clean version... more "getting together" rather than established relationship for those of you whose hearts are still pure.  
> [05-14-2019 A/N: Honestly, pals, this is the best thing I've ever written and I am so proud of it. Just putting it out here because I feel the need to give this fic more love.]


End file.
